Two Against The Universe: Angelic
by caneeljoy
Summary: Our sisters live a sheltered and secretive life with their mother... But when their mother Jane is found dead, Violet and Star's life is turned upside down - and find out that their ties to the Winchester family are too close for comfort. (Note: takes place in S8, a sort of AU happening between episodes late-season.) (M for some harsh language, mostly starting in Chapter 6.)
1. Prologue

" _You're special," my mother told me. "Both you and your sister, you're very, very special."_

" _We are?" I was so young._

" _Yes, you are." She had knelt down to look me in the eye. "You're different. You can do things that other people can't do."_

 _Her praise was uncharacteristic… even at seven, I knew that. I stared at her, barely even blinking, waiting for her mood to shift._

 _Her face had tightened, lines on her eyes standing out. There._

" _And people are going to hunt you. There's always going to be somebody after you. You need to sleep with one eye open, and always have you knife with you. You need to be the best at hiding. You need to learn the lessons I teach you and do the things I tell you. Don't question me, just do it. Are we clear?"_

" _Yes," I had said._

" _Good." She had smiled, but it had looked like more of a mouth-twitch. "Now go wake your sister… I have a surprise for you."_

 _The surprise had turned out to be self defense classes._

 _The three of us lived in a tiny two-room place on the eighth floor of a crappy apartment building. More often than not, me and my sister would be unsupervised, as our mom ran two jobs and only came home around eleven PM, if then. She worked full time at a restaurant two blocks away, and part time as a prostitute in a nightclub._

 _Her name was Jane. She never sugar-coated anything, swore often, and never sent us to school. "Stay inside between nine and three," she always said. She never said good morning or tucked us in at night… and we never expected her to. We accepted the fact that our mom was different than other moms and that was okay, because we could basically do anything we wanted._

 _By the time we were able to speak, and even a little before, Jane made it clear that we were different. "No," she said to me. "Not all little girls see the lights." When I was older, she explained that the "lights" were actually souls, human souls. It was fun to be able to see them: my sister and I, when we're bored, look outside and soul-spot, seeing if we can find any new colors. You can tell a lot about a person from his soul. And another lesson Jane hammered into us: stay away from people with black souls. They are demons, or just very evil. She also said to hide our strength, especially in class. It was inhuman, which, in fact, we were: 25% angel, that is._

 _It's not like she was a bad mother… she tried her best for us. She brought books and magazines back from her job sometimes. Nothing was ever consistent: Good Homes and Gardens, the Scarlet Letter, trashy romance novels, cheesy girl magazines. I taught myself how to read and then taught my sister. I asked for workbooks when I was ten, and she asked around and found an acquaintance who had a surplus of books for her students. I devoured the lessons, not because I was smart, but because I liked learning. It was cool to learn things about the world that I never knew before._

 _Oh, and another odd thing about my mother: she never named us. We didn't exist anyway, according to the government. "It's for your safety," she said. When I was four, I wondered what my name was, because when I read the books I was able to, everybody in there had names. I asked her what my name was, and she rolled her eyes. "I don't know. It's your name. Just choose something that sounds right."_

 _I pored through our book collection, looking for the perfect name for myself. I wanted something beautiful and magical. I changed my name often, a few of them being Lilac, Brietta, and Rainfall. But I finally settled on a name at eight: Violet, because I saw violets grow in the cracks in the sidewalk near our apartment and I thought they were pretty. My sister took longer than me, waiting until she was eleven until naming herself Star Arabella. We had no last name._

 _Sometimes I felt like the world was only the apartment we lived in, and the studio we went to for our Krav Maga lessons. It means "contact combat," and Jane liked it because it wasn't just smoke and mirrors and repetitions - it was real life self-defense._

 _Jane was, and still is, very judgemental and looks-centric. Even with the Krav Maga classes I always was a bit heavy, even though we don't get much to eat. I work as hard as I can in class but I still have bits of fat that cling to my thighs and stomach. Jane often gives me a skeptical up-down look and gives a bigger portion to Star, who's always been rail-thin._

 _I learned to not let it bother me. After all, Star was the better daughter, at least in terms of power. It was apparent from the start that there was more angel in her than me. When I used my power, my eyes barely glowed, just went from blue to smoky-colored. Hers, on the other hand, glowed a faint, creamy white. Jane showered her with praise and I tried to ignore it all._

 _I read about girls with mothers and fathers and wondered where my father was. When I probed Jane about it, she got a look in her eye that I can only describe as murderous. "Your father is… was… a douchebag. I'll tell you when you're older."_

 _I asked her again three years later, a mere year ago. It had freaked me out, but I convinced myself to do it. After all, I was older. When I brought it up, she sighed. "I'm going to be late for work… but you deserve to know."_

 _Star was playing in the next room over with a few half-clothed Barbies that Jane had brought home. Jane sat me down upon the mattress Star and I shared, and sighed._

" _I met your father at my job, fourteen years ago," she said. "He told me he had just turned twenty-one and he was going to celebrate being able to legally drink." She actually smiled, a dreamy look in her eyes. "I told him we should celebrate accordingly."_

" _I get it!" I said quickly, not wanting to further into the subject._

" _I didn't intend to get pregnant," she informed me. "But when I did, I was… ecstatic. I always wanted children."_

" _Thanks?"_

 _She went on as if she didn't hear me, lost in memory. "I had you, and I was so happy. I just wished he could be here to see you… but he didn't seem like the kind of guy to stick around for the baby." She made a wry face. "He was the flighty type. Didn't even say goodbye._

" _I changed jobs and moved us here, where the rent was more affordable. Then, five years after that, I met him again." Her expression became dreamy. "Three states away and in my specific club… it's like Fate wanted us to be together!" She paused, then continued. "I didn't recognize him until I saw him walking out the door the next morning… and he'd left his ID behind, along with his tip." She giggled girlishly._

" _Mom!" I complained._

" _It's Jane," she corrected sharply. Then her face softened. "Do you want to see him? I kept it, all these years, for when you asked about him."_

" _Yeah," I said._

 _She left the room and came back with a small plastic card in her hand. She gave it to me, and I flipped it over, plastic worn but still slightly shiny. A serious face stared back at me, and a handsome one, too._

" _He's hot!" I exclaimed._

 _Jane doubled over laughing, almost crying, and Star came into the room, holding her doll. "What's so funny?"_

" _Nothing, sweetheart!" She wiped at a tear, grinning._

 _Star came and peeked over my shoulder. "What's that?"_

" _That's our dad, Star." I showed her the ID._

" _He's hot!" Star looked astonished._

 _Jane glanced at the clock on the wall. "Damn, I'm late. Violet? Put that back on my bed when you're done looking."_

 _I nodded, but I didn't think I'd even be done looking. I tried to memorize his features: green eyes gleaming in the camera-flash, sharp cheekbones, the slight quirk of one side of his lips. And the name I committed to memory, sometimes writing it down places so I wouldn't forget the spelling. Because now I knew my last name:_

 _Winchester._


	2. Chapter 1

I snap from my reverie, which feels almost like waking from a vivid dream. Sunlight streams from a small window above my head, making the a small square of light on the opposite wall. I shift and reach out a hand, feeling the mattress: Star's not there. She always likes getting up early so she has a chance of saying goodbye to Mom… Jane.

Speaking of Star…

"Viiiiii!" She shoves the curtain that serves as the door to our room open. Well, it's not exactly our room, it's also Jane's room. She slept on a pallette across the room. And we also stored things in the room: clothes, books, those kinds of things-

"Earth to Violet!" Star waves a hand in front of my eyes, making me blink.

"What?"

"It's almost ten! Get the hell up!" She yanks the thin covers off of me.

"Language!" I mumble, trying to wrestle the blanket from her hands. We end up falling onto our bed and doing battle for the blanket. Then, we're too tired to declare a victor and lay back on the mattress, giggling.

"C'mon, Vi-vi." Star stands up, dusting off her faded dress. "I made breakfast."

"Don't call me that!" I grumble, slowly standing.

She stands in the doorway, looking at me expectantly.

"Go away, I'm gonna get dressed!" I say.

"You suck," she pouts, letting the curtain fall.

I turns to the bin that holds my clothes. We each have our own, though mine's barely even half-full. We don't get clothes often… usually only on our birthdays and maybe Christmas, if Jane remembers. I rifle through the disorganized container and pull out a well-loved set of jeans and a stained lavender tee. Thankfully, Jane had done a load of wash last week, so I have a clean pair of underwear and a bra. I quickly dress, putting a dab of Jane's perfume on, because I ran out of deodorant a month ago and Jane hadn't gotten around to buying more.

I go into the other room to find Star chowing down on a misshapen pancake at the table… actually, it's just a cardboard box, and we sit on the floor to eat. But hey, better than having no table at all.

"Any left for me?" I ask, moving to the gas stove, minifridge, and makeshift wooden counter that serves as our kitchen.

"Duh," she says with her mouth full. "I'm not a total bitch."

"Nope, not total," I tease.

"Shaddup, I made you breakfast so shut your cakehole." She takes another huge bite and pretend-ignores me as I sit down across from her.

"These are pretty good!" I say after a few bites.

Star swallows. "Jane wanted to use up the eggs and milk, and the mix was on sale."

I nod. Jane's pretty thrifty and loves taking advantage of sales. "Nice job not burning the place down, Tar-tar."

"Don't call me that!"

"I'll stop calling you Tar-tar when you stop calling me Vi-vi," I retort.

"Okay…" She sighs, then grins down at her breakfast, adding in an undertone: "...Vi-vi."

I bop her in the arm, and she pounces on me over the table, screeching a battle cry.

Yeah, we get a bit stir-crazy. Plus, we're both ultra-competitive and that doesn't help.

I break up the fight by chicken-winging her left arm. "Enough, you crazy brathole."

"Asshole," she growls as I release her.

"I'd say "language" but I know you wouldn't listen," I inform her.

"Well, duh." She stands up.

"Did you get to see Jane this morning?"

A funny look comes onto her face. "No. She wasn't there. I don't think she even came home."

"That's not that unusual," I say.

She shrugs. "Guess not."

I go for my crossword puzzle book and she dives into rereading all the issues of Spider-Man Jane brought a few weeks ago.

 _Focus,_ the Voice says. And for some reason, I'm not startled. I recognize the Voice as a natural thing and shake it off.

"Whatever," Star and I reply in unison, not even looking up from our pastimes.

The Voice is smiling somehow. _It is good to see you two adjusting._

I sigh. "We know the drill. Do the thing, whatever the thing is. Go with the flow, have some fun. And then…" I pause. I don't know how I was going to finish that sentence.

"Then something happens and other stuff happens, blah blah blah." Star's voice is flippant, and on purpose. I feel something… deja vu? Like I'm remembering something…

And then it's gone, the Voice along with it.


	3. Chapter 2

"It's been too long, Violet!" Star's voice is angry.

I sigh and look up at her, standing over me as I tie my shoe. "So? It hasn't been the first time she's been gone for this long."

Star huffs. "I just… have a bad feeling."

"So?" I repeat.

"Jane always said to listen to our gut, and my gut says something's wrong."

I straighten. "Let's just go to class, and we can ask Chuck if he's seen anything." Chuck's our Krav Maga instructor. He's from Korea, but he preferred Krav Maga to kung fu and decided to teach.

"Okay…" Star doesn't look happy. I take her hand as we walk to the door.

She yanks away. "I'm not a baby."

"I know," I say, reaching for her hand again.

It's several flights of stairs to the street, and only a block and a half to the dojo. However, once we arrive, the doors were closed.

"The doors are never closed," I say aloud.

Star shoots me a withering look. "Thanks, Sherlock." She lets go of my hand and peers inside. "It's dark. They're closed?"

"That's weird…" An uneasy feeling builds in my stomach.

Star turns. "Okay, so we go to the restaurant."

I blink. "What?"

"We should try and find Jane, see if anything's wrong."

"But she'll get so mad…"

"Who cares?" she snaps. "God, you're such a baby."

"She told us never to leave the apartment except for class," I insist.

"We can make an exception if she hasn't been home for four days!"

I sigh, sensing the argument is futile. "Fine. Let's go. But when we get kidnapped, raped, and murdered, I'm never going to forgive you."

"You're so paranoid, Vi-vi." She linked arms with me, tugging me sideways slightly so I was closer to her height.

It took us a while to find the place where Jane worked; we actually had to ask a man sitting at a bus stop for directions. He had a plain brown soul, indicating simple-mindedness, so we figured he was safe enough.

"Nice place," Star said as we approached the front door. I couldn't tell if she was joking or being serious.

"Eugenie's. Weird name."

I shoved the door open with my foot and followed Star inside. A man stood behind a podium-like structure. I guess it's normal for restaurants, I wouldn't know… Jane never took us out. The man's soul is a calm, drab green, indicating a laid-back personality.

The man smiled at us. "Where are your parents, girls?"

Star smiles, flashing her adorable dimples. "Oh, our dad sent us here with a message for his friend. Her name is Jane. Do you know where we can find her?"

The man, as all adults do, falls in love immediately. "Jane? Red hair?"

"That's her," I say.

"Hmm… I actually haven't seen her since yesterday." He leans easily on the podium. "She's actually supposed to be on shift right now… wonder where she is."

Star and I exchanged a look: _shit_.

"Well, we're going to hang around for a bit, see if she comes back. Our dad insisted that we deliver the message." Then Star beams at the guy like he's Superman or something. "Mind getting us a table?"

He grins back and ushers us to a comfy booth. I sit us across from one another, me watching the entrance, and her watching the kitchen.

The guy brings her a milk and me a soda on request. I slowly sip at my drink, while Star gulps hers down, leaving a white mustache on her upper lip. I giggle. Even with her colorful vocabulary and maturity, Star really was just a cute little kid sometimes.

"Shut up," she mutters, swiping her arm across her face.

We wait for about 45 minutes. I don't miss the furtive glances from the other people at the restaurant, wondering why two kids are sitting alone in a booth.

Five minutes later, the cops show up.

I mutter an expletive under my breath. "Don't look. Seven cops, headed towards the kitchen."

Star nods, then grins slightly. "You sound like you've dealt with this kind of thing before."

"Fake it 'till you make it," I respond.

The police walk into the kitchen, and I see Star eyeing their backs. A minute later they re-emerge, followed by a terrified manager and a nervous chef.

As if by unspoken agreement, we stand and follow them out. Outside, there's an ambulance, lights whirling, and at least ten police cars. I grab Star by the hand and go closer, to listen in, because none of the police are paying us the slightest bit of attention. Their souls vary from dull red to brick colored, showing their logical mindset and concentration.

"-last night, in a ditch," one policeman is saying to the manager. "She didn't leave with a friend?"

"No! No, she left alone," the manager says. His soul is pulsing… he's really freaked out.

"This is obviously a murder, sir, we need any and all evidence we can gather."

"Well, there was this man…" The manager blots his forehead with a napkin. "He was wearing a trenchcoat, and was sitting with another short man. I saw her talking to them… but only briefly."

"Anything strange you can tell us?"

"I don't believe so… it's just that the man in the trenchcoat was obviously interested in her… he watched her the entire time he was sitting there. Even when she went in the kitchen, he moved his head… like he could see through walls."

Star edges closer, trying to get a look inside the ambulance.

"Excuse me? Girls?" I look, with dread, at the policeman glaring at my sister and me. "This is a crime scene."

"We're just looking for somebody," I say quickly. "A… family friend. Red hair, waitress at the restaurant?"

The policeman's face turns several colors before finally turning white. He seems at an utter loss for words.

And suddenly, I know.

"No," Star whispers.

There is such pity in his eyes. "Girls, I think you should-"

I shove past him, easily knocking him to the pavement. I hear a crack.

"Violet!" Star yells.

But I barely hear her: one step, five steps, and I'm standing over the body. A white sheet covers the face, and I whip it back in one fluid motion:

Jane. It's Jane, hair wild, gaping hole in her throat. Very obviously dead.

Star is tugging on my arm, and when I look her eyes are rooted on the body. I realize… I have to get her away from here. I have to get us away.

Two policeman at our backs.

It's a blur: I grab Star by the arm and bolt past them. They shout after us. I run the wrong way on purpose, so they'll follow us the wrong way. I twist through several alleys, still tugging Star behind me. At some point she starts to run. Eventually after a crazy wild-goose chase, I dash up the stairs to our apartment, shove Star inside, and lock the door behind us.

Star's collapsed on the floor, panting. I'm frozen for a moment, before looking out the small window. "They're not following us."

Star doesn't reply. She stands up, rubbing at her shoulder, tears brimming in her green eyes. "I…"

"Hey, it's okay." I move to her and hug her, hard. My heart is pounding from the running, but somehow… somehow I'm not upset. Like I knew this would happen. And besides… Jane wasn't really like our mother, right?

 _You need to be strong for her,_ the Voice said.

 _I know._ I hold her closer.

 _I know._


	4. Chapter 3

"Trenchcoat, short guy. Guy in a trenchcoat and a short guy." Star's pacing like mad, around and around the room.

She's been like this for days. We've been staying in the apartment, not leaving at all, just waiting for something… neither of us knew what. But now she's getting restless, and so am I, as the truth starts creeping up on us: what are we going to do?

"Star, cut it out," I say for the umpteenth time. "For God's sake, there's no way we can track them. For all we know, the guy only wears a trenchcoat on Tuesdays. And besides, we have bigger problems right now."

"Bigger than beating the shit out of the guy who murdered our mom?!" She's practically spitting, she's so angry. She's always like this when she gets upset, or sad, or lonely: closes off, and gets really pissy.

"Yes!" I snap. "Or did you forget that the fricking police are after us?"

"I haven't forgotten." Her voice is low with a dark edge to it.

 _God,_ I think, heart sinking as I watch her. _She's too young for this._

 _Be strong,_ the Voice reminds me. _You need a plan._ Sometimes it's like my own voice talking in my head, and it's easy to forget that I'm-

"Okay, so we can't stay." I rise to my feet.

"What?"

"We can't stay here," I say again. "Sooner or later, the dogs'll come sniffing around…" I pause, looking at her nervous face. "I'm sure they'll be able to track us, and they _will_ come after us… I assaulted a police officer."

"You're right," she says after a moment. "We need to leave. Not like we'll be able to stay for much longer… once we run out of rent money, the landlord'll kick us out."

"Yep." I sink back down onto the floor, where I'd been sitting. "C'mere." I gestured to Star with one hand, and she came and sat across from me, our knees touching. "We need a game plan, all mapped out and ready."

"Well, we gotta leave as soon as we can." Her expression is grim.

"We should go…" I pause, not sure what to say.

 _Northeast._

"Northeast," we echo in unison. I nod. It feels right, somehow.

Star shrugs. "Sure, why not? What the disembodied Voice says, goes, I guess."

We grin at each other as the memory softens and fades, leaving the word "northeast" in its wake.

"So, just grab a compass and start walkin'?"

"Guess so." I get onto my knees and get slowly to my feet. "C'mon… let's pack."

"Into what?" Star asked, trotting behind me as I moved into our bedroom.

"I dunno, find a tote bag or something." I go over to the storage baskets and rifle through one of Jane's… not like she'll be needing it anymore. "Here." I hold up two reusable grocery bags, obviously saved by Jane.

"They're a bit small," Star notes.

"Good thing we're not taking much." I hand her one of the bags. "We take the bare necessities, and take the rest and throw it out. Burn it, if we can."

"Burn it?"

"If the police _do_ use dogs, they won't get our smell," I explain.

Star didn't look happy about basically burning all of our childhood, but she accepted the bag and began packing.

A few hours later, we both dump out our bags and I help her inventory everything.

"Three shirts, three pairs of pants, one dress, check," I say. "You?"

"I need another pair of pants." She darts into the room, comes out with a worn set of denim pants, and tosses them on her pile.

"Underwear, socks?" I don't ask about bras, obviously… she's still too little. Sometimes I forget that she's not my age, despite the fact that she looks young.

"Yep, I'm good with that."

"Jacket, gloves?"

"Why do I need gloves?"

I shrug. "I dunno. North, it'll be cold."

She sighs. "I don't own any gloves."

"Me neither," I admit.

She laughs shortly and without humor. "Keep going."

I look down at the makeshift list I'd jotted on a sticky note. "Food, water?"

"I got two boxes of granola bars, a couple oranges, and three bottles of water… it was all I could find that I know won't spoil soon."

I nod. "Good."

"Did you find any money or anything?"

"I found her credit card and $40 cash."

She sighs. "Better than nothing. What about that compass?"

I snort. "Nope, no such luck. We should just go buy one."

"Anything else?" she asks.

I look at the list again. "Toiletries?"

"I have my toothbrush and a comb," she says.

"Me too." I look back at the list. "I think that's everything."

"Cool." She packs everything into the bag as tightly as she can, and it all fits. I do the same with my bag, except for the jacket doesn't fit.

"I'll just wear it," I decide.

"You're gonna be hot," she chides.

"Around my waist."

She stands up, and I glance at the clock on the wall. "It's getting late… let's eat something and hit the sack."

"But it's too early!" she protests as I go over to the fridge and pull it open.

"I'm getting us up at three in the morning," I say. "So no, it's not."

"Bitch," I hear her mutter.

"Heard that, you asshat!" I call over my shoulder.

We make bread, ham, and cheese into sandwiches, which I heat over the stove. We both agree that we're going to miss perishable food. But it feels good to have made a plan, and acted on it, even though basically what we're planning to do is take a compass and head northeast, to wherever that leads us. Hell, it's better than nothing. I wonder about the irrationality of our decision but decide it's not that important.

After Star goes to sleep, I open Jane's wallet. I take out the ID card and stare at the picture of the man on it.

I fall asleep staring at my father's face.


	5. Chapter 4

We don't burn our clothes. We drag everything out using the storage bins, down all flights of stairs, and throw them into the nearby Dumpster. Thanks to Star's insane strength, it doesn't take much effort to do the same with our mattresses. I walk around our bare two-room apartment for one last time, and Star follows me. We take all of Jane's spice grinders, uncap them, and scatter their contents across the floor.

And then, for the last time, we shut that door. And we walk to the road, turn left, and keep going, not looking back. Well… Star looks back, once. But I don't mention it.

I end up buying the smallest and cheapest compass I can find for $2 at a convenience store. I bring it out to Star, who's chowing down on a granola bar.

"We should try and save those," I say.

"Whatever," she mutters around a mouthful.

I place the tool flat on my palm and watch as the needle swings to the left. "That way."

"So how do you even work that thing?" Star asks as we start walking. It seems ridiculous and a bit anticlimactic to just start walking north… but it feels right, somehow.

"I'm not exactly sure… just follow where the arrow points?"

"How far do we have to go north until we need to go east?" Star asks after about a half-hour of walking.

"God, Star, how should I know?!"

Star glares at me. "I'm just saying, this isn't exactly the smartest plan."

"We have forty bucks, a dead woman's credit card, and only a weird-ass Voice to go on," I snap. "You got a better plan? I'm dying to hear it."

We walk in silence for several hours. We pause once to go to the bathroom and get some water from a fast food restaurant.

"Where can we stay?" Star asks a little while after we resume walking.

"No idea," I say shortly.

We've been following a highway for the longest while, and it's starting to get dark. I don't see a better option than trying to hitchhike. As cars pass us, I stick out my thumb. On the fifth try, a rough-looking man in a truck stops for us.

"Where you headed?" he asks. His appearance is a contrast to his soul, which is a warm and sensitive orange. I relax and smile.

"Closest city," I say.

He pats the front seat with one hand. "Room for two here. Hop in."

I put Star on my lap and he begins driving. It's nice to rest our legs. He makes small talk and even offers Star a donut, which she accepts eagerly. Thankfully, he doesn't bother to ask why we're walking down a highway near nightfall. I try and give him a fiver once we pull into Ventucopa, but he refuses it. "You'll need it soon enough."

"Thank you," I say, words not meaning nearly enough. He drives off, exhaust hanging in the air.

It's pretty dark. We start walking again, down the sidewalk. "Let's find a library and check out bus ticket prices… see if we can afford any."

"What if we overshoot where we're supposed to go?"

"Then we'll go back." She starts to say something else but I shush her. "Let's just find a damn library, Star, okay?"

"Fine," she snaps.

Eventually we do find a library, a half hour from closing. I feed the librarian a lie about our parents dropping us off so they can get drinks and hop on a laptop. Star sits nearby, flicking idly through a magazine.

I go onto a website and look at some guidelines. For Amtrak, if you're under 13 you have to have an adult with you. I curse, and Star comes over. "What?"

"There's a station in Santa Barbara that can take us to Denver but you'd have to pretend to be 13," I explain.

"That could be difficult," she admits.

"Let's just go for it," I sigh. "We've got no better option."

I book us two tickets for two days from now, and enter in the credit card number. To my shock, it actually goes through!

"Okay, we're good." I'm so relieved as I print out the two tickets from the library printer. "We're so damned lucky, Star. We might not get this lucky next time," I whisper as I fold the tickets and place them, along with Jane's credit card, back into her wallet.

Star smiles but doesn't say anything. We're jolted from the light of happiness when the librarian says, "We're closing now, girls."

"Oh… okay. We'll wait out front for Mom and Dad." It sounds odd, hearing myself say those words, when I've never called anybody Dad in my life, and Jane hated it when I called her Mom.

We stand out in the dark until the librarian passes us, gets in his car, throws us a dubious glance, and drives away. Then we set off, walking down the street, lamps above us flickering weakly.

"So, where to now?" Star's voice echoes oddly on the empty road.

I shrug, moving my bag to a more comfortable position on my shoulder. "We can keep walking, or we can sleep outside."

Star's eyes widen a fraction, and then she growls at the tarmac to cover up her anxiety. "I'm gonna kill who did this. I swear to God I will."

"Star, to be perfectly fricking honest, we have bigger problems than revenge right now." I stop and take her arm, pulling her into a narrow alley between two apartment buildings. "And I know we're not exactly living the life, but we're alive. We're headed somewhere we're supposed to go; I can feel it. So let's just do this, okay?"

Star tosses her bag onto the ground and sits down next to it. "Whatever."

I stare for a long time at the dim stars before finally following Star to sleep.


	6. Chapter 5

We barely make it to the Amtrak station in time for our train. We literally have to walk through the night to make it to the 8:15 AM boarding. The woman accepts my tickets, casting a doubtful look Star's way, but she doesn't say anything and lets us get on the train. I'm supposed to be eighteen and she's supposed to be thirteen… I'm just lucky that I've always looked old for my age.

Star's super excited, seeing as we've never been on a train before. I'm just glad to rest my legs for a while. I settle us in our seats (the cheapest available) and keep our bags handy.

Star looks longingly at a young boy sitting across the aisle, playing on a tablet.

"Get comfy… we've got a long way to go," I say to her over the chatter. "We're not going to get there until late tonight…"

She sighs heavily and leans against the wall - I let her have the window seat. After a minute, I hand her my coat to use for a makeshift pillow. She accepts it gratefully and soon falls asleep, thanks to the gentle rolling motion of the train.

I watch trees flick by in the darkness and settle back. I shift in my seat and sigh, letting my head loll back… only 1,000 miles to go.

"D'you want a turn?"

I awake with a start. I hadn't intended to sleep… but the movement and sound of the train was hypnotic. I blinked several times and look for the source of the voice.

Across the aisle, the same young boy Star had been eyeing is looking at her, talking to her. Star is looking back, confused.

"Ya've been lookin' at me for hours!" His voice is friendly but a bit exasperated. I can see Star sizing him up: innocent orange-yellow soul, eyes that were meant to intimidate but show his compassion. "Ya can have a turn for a while, if ya want."

Star reaches across my lap and accepts the tablet. "Thanks."

"Don't get any food on it." He turns away and pulls a phone from his pocket.

As the sun slowly rises, I watched Star figure out how the tablet works and immerse herself in the games. She takes a liking to The Walking Dead, using the complimentary headphones to hear. I watch. The boy doesn't ask for it back until a few hours later, after a woman had come around taking breakfast orders and saying we were 45 minutes out.

"Thanks," Star repeats as she gives it back.

"No prob," he replies.

They serve us hard toast with corn-syrupy honey, but we're ravenous and it tastes incredible. I ask the stewardess for four bottles of water: "two for our parents." Obviously a lie… I just don't want us getting dehydrated.

We leave the train with hesitation, as the air outside is freezing and we have no further transportation, obviously. I take Star by the hand and we walk out onto the sidewalk. I check the compass and find north, but I needn't have bothered: we're getting closer, and I can feel it, like a tug in the pit of my stomach. Not terribly close, but closer. Much closer.

"Now what?"

"We're in Denver," I say. "Let's find a library, warm up, see if we can find a bus or something."

"Denver?"

"Yeah, we really covered some ground on the train." I pull her along, searching both sides of the street for a library. I end up asking a lady in a shop, who gives us directions and two warm croissants. The kindness of humans never fails to surprise me…

I laugh aloud, and Star looks at me oddly.

"I was just thinking about humans… like I wasn't one," I explain.

"That's not that weird," she says.

"Guess not," I concede.

We go into the library and I park myself at a computer. I quickly get onto Google Maps and sit, unsure what to do…

"We're going northeast," Star reminds me quietly.

"I know, but…" I hesitate. "I feel like we're getting closer, but I don't know what-"

 _Lebanon, Kansas._

"Kansas?"

"Lebanon, Kansas, that's what it said," I say, hands moving over the keys. "Almost six hours, without traffic."

"Ugh," Star groans.

"It'll be easy, if we can get a ride," I say. "Lebanon, Kansas, huh? I wonder what's in Lebanon, Kansas…"

"You've said Lebanon, Kansas at least three times," Star mutters.

"Because I'm happy!" I turn off the computer. "Now we know where we're headed."

Star rolls her eyes but I know she's happy too.

"Let's get this show on the road." I sling my bag over my shoulder and stand. "Besides, even if we have to walk, it's not that far!"


	7. Chapter 6

I was so wrong.

If we had walked the entire way, it would have taken us over four days straight. Luckily, Star and I had little trouble hitchhiking. Nobody tried to kidnap us or rape us, which was a bonus, and I told Star that our legs and lungs were now superhumanly strong (to which she pointed out that we were about 25% angel.) We made it to Lebanon in a little under two days, just before sunset.

"Thank you so much," I say to the woman as I climb out of the backseat. She had driven us for several hours, and had spent most of the time telling us stories about her sons.

"No problem, sugar." Her Southern accent is really strong, I notice, on the last word. "You be safe now."

"Will do," I reply, a bit too cheerfully, and she drives off.

"Now what?" Star asks, coughing a bit on her exhaust.

"Well, I can tell we're close." I don't need a compass to tell me that. The feeling of rightness morphed into a kind of inexplicable pull when we crossed the border into Kansas, this weird drive that's almost physically pulling me down the street. I actually see Star lean back on her heels in an attempt to curb the urge to run.

"Let's go," she said. "I don't care where or why, but I'm tired and I want to sleep."

"We'll be there soon," I say, smoothing down her hair, noticing how dirty it's gotten over the travel.

We walk for a while, ten minutes, before coming to a bridge. A factory stands next to it, but it's unremarkable, drab and tall. I stop.

"I think we're here," I say.

"A bridge?"

"Not… quite." I go over to the left side and look down. "Look."

Cleverly disguised and half-hidden in shadows is a door.

"Awesome," Star says, not entirely sarcastically.

Holding hands, we pick our way down the slope and come to a stop in front of the entrance. It's set low in the ground, with steps leading down to the door and bricks set around it. There's a set of stairs leading down.

I step forward, but Star balks.

"C'mon," I say. "It's where we're supposed to go."

"Okay," Star replied, voice a little shaky.

"Should we knock?" I ask.

"Very funny."

"I'm serious."

"I guess." Star shrugs.

"Here goes nothing," I huff, and bang on the door. _Bam bam bam._

It's totally silent, except for the occasional chirp of crickets. A car passes nearby.

"Try again," Star whispers.

"Okay." _Bam bam bam._

"Harder," she suggests.

 _BAM BAM BAM._

I freeze, hearing faint footsteps from inside. I exchange a quick look with Star, who looks equally spooked. Should we run?

Too late.

The door gets shoved open so wide that Star and I have to jump back to avoid getting hit. "Cas, that you? Why the hell-"

A full-body shiver seizes me. "It's you."

"Sorry?" Green eyes squint at me. "The hell are you?"

I drink in the sight. His soul… it's the brightest green I've ever seen in my life. There are cracks in it, sure, and there's something… off… about it. But it's beautiful.

"Jesus, I didn't-" I can't form coherent thought. "I didn't know-"

"Is this a joke?" he demands.

"Dean, who is it?" Another man appears behind him, rubbing at one eye. His soul is warm colors, red and orange, deep and lovely, but also cracked and there's something off there, too. "Oh… who are you? What are you… Dean?"

"Don't look at me," my father says. "I've never seen them before in my life."

"You… you…!"

I look down at Star, alarmed. Her voice…

"You _asshole!_ " she shrieks. "You son of a _bitch!_ "

Dean blinks at her. The other guy, who I notice is really tall, is staring at the two of us. Star's freckles, and her eyes. My hair. Putting the pieces together, not believing it.

"That's… not possible," he said.

"What's not possible?" Dean asks, sounding totally bewildered.

"Unfortunately, it is," I say. "I would have called ahead, but… I… didn't really… know."

"Come in, please."

"Wh- what?!" Dean splutters. "Sam, you can't just-"

"Shut up, Dean," Sam says quietly.

Dean's mouth opens and shuts as I tug Star inside. I feel her trembling.

"Not now," I whisper to her. "Chill. It's okay."

"That mother _fucker_ ," she hisses.

"Not now, Star," I repeat.

Sam, I think that's his name, takes my backpack from me and puts it on a table nearby. I notice that there's a huge map on it, but focus more on skimming the room with my eyes. No exits, obviously, but plenty of doors. Lots of books.

"Here, sit, please." Sam takes a seat at another table. I force Star into a chair and sit next to her, keeping one hand around her wrist. I know I'm not as strong as she is, and I couldn't hold her back if she didn't let me, but I hope to at least ground her.

"Sam, I still don't get it." Dean sits down next to Sam. "Do you know these kids?"

"Do you?"

Dean blinks. "Uh, no."

"Look at them, Dean!" Sam snaps. "Really _look!_ "

Dean looks. Sees Star's freckles, her eyes, my hair. Puts it together.

"Fuck," he says.

"You can say that again," Star mutters.

" _Fuck!_ "

"That wasn't an invitation." She glares at him.

"But how… what…"

"Do you want to know?" I ask.

"Do I have a choice?" Dean's head is in his hands, elbows on the table.

"Guess not." I sigh. "Does the name Jane ring a bell?"

"I've known a lot of Janes." He sounds defensive.

"A specific Jane that you met the first time you legally drank." I put the faintest stress on "legally," and his face colors.

"I, uh… sort of?"

"I didn't expect you to," I say. "You met her again, five years later, three states over."

"I do kind of remember that," he says, voice as quiet as I've heard it.

"You left your ID behind," I say.

"Oh."

"Do you… want it back?"

"Uh, no, you can… keep it."

"Jane was murdered a few weeks ago," I say. "The only thing I know about it was that it probably had something to do with a scruffy short guy and a man in a trenchcoat."

Something flickers in Dean's eyes. His soul actually wavers in his chest.

"You know about them," I say flatly. "Who are they."

"Uh…"

Sam tries to rescue him. "It's not import-"

"Say it's not important and I. Will. Hurt you." Star stands up, pushing back from the table. "Now tell us what you know about those guys or we're leaving. Right now."

I can feel Dean looking at me and I turn and look back. A short staring contest later, Dean sighs. "That guy in the trenchcoat is… an angel."

Eyebrow raise. Okay. Didn't expect that. "An angel? Then… why would he kill my mom?"

"He _killed your mom?"_ To his credit, Sam really does look shocked.

"That's my best guess," I say.

"There was some residual energy on her body," Star says. "So, yeah. It was probably him."

I round on her. "What? Why didn't you mention that earlier?!"

She shrugs. "Didn't seem important. It was blue and bright. I didn't recognize it."

"How well do you know this… angel?" I'm watching Dean closely, and the second pulse of his soul doesn't escape my notice.

"We're… friends." Dean shifts in his seat.

"Don't hedge," I warn him.

Dean rolls his shoulders, looking off to the side. (I've seen Star do that before when she's uncomfortable.) "Cas…"

"He raised Dean from Hell," Sam says.

My eyes almost bug out of my head. I blink several times and sit back. "You're… not kidding, are you?"

"Nope."

I look at Star. "Well, uh… I guess… does he come around here often?"

"Why?" Dean asks.

I roll my eyes at him. "I want to ask the dude _why_ , obviously. It seems kind of weird that an angel would kill a relat-" I cut myself off.

Sam stares at me. "You said… relative? Jane… your mom. She was an angel?"

I shake my head. I've already said too much. Seeing Sam about to talk again, I cut him off. "Just… we want to talk to him. Get his side of the story."

"I'd like to know that, too," mutters Dean.

"Think he'll answer a prayer?" Sam says to Dean.

Dean snorts. "Doubt it. I've been praying to him every n- I mean, sometimes."

"He can hear you pray?"

"Yeah, but the guy usually ignores you," Dean says.

"What did you call him, again?" I ask.

"Cas," Sam supplies. "But his name is Castiel."

I close my eyes. _Cas… Castiel? It's… well, obviously you don't know me. My name is Violet. I'm with Sam and Dean, and we want to talk to you._

There's a flash of light, and across the room a man materializes, seemingly out of thin air. Like I expected, he's wearing a trenchcoat, and his soul… well, it's not a soul. It's blindingly bright, and a beautiful blue color.

"Who are you?" he asks.

Before I have the chance to respond, Star throws herself at him.


End file.
